


Hot & Bothered

by jojothecr



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Written in 2010, request fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-20
Updated: 2011-08-20
Packaged: 2017-10-22 21:11:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojothecr/pseuds/jojothecr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Hot & Bothered</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot & Bothered

Blowing a strand of sweaty hair off his forehead, Jared stretches his legs on the wooden bench in front of him, and then wriggles until he finds a more comfortable position on the hard table. He could get up and go sit down in his chair, but then he’d lose the perfect view he’s currently got. That’s a possibility he’s not even considering.

It’s not even noon yet, but his skin is burning nevertheless; prickling with heat and humidity, and the fabric of his T-shirt is sticking to his back, like it’s been glued on. He pushes his sunglasses higher, burying them in the sweaty mess of his hair, and narrows his eyes against the sunlight.

Completely undisturbed by the fuss happening around and behind him, he watches the scene before him. Because it’s not only the sun that makes his temperature rise to dangerous degrees. It’s Jensen, who, as it turns out, is way too distracting. He’s so distracting that Jared has even managed to forget that he was hungry and ready to kill for a bite of anything edible bare thirty minutes ago. Now the plastic container sits beside him, still full and completely untouched.

Jensen is just a few feet away from him; being knocked down and punched, pushed and shoved, making once breathy, and then breathless noises - practicing another fight scene with their evil double.

Like captivated, Jared watches the slow, fluid dance of limbs, bones and muscles that stretch and shrink underneath Jensen’s T-shirt and gym pants, the calculated and dangerous, yet still elegant movements that send the guy, taller and more muscular than Jensen, to the padded ground within a moment. In the next second Jensen is down, and the guy above him, shifting his hands from Jensen’s shoulders up to his throat and getting ready to strangle him. A magic kick, then Jensen’s hips bucking against the man that keeps him down, his leg wrapped around the other guy’s thigh, and their roles are reversed again.

It looks like a never-ending measure of strength and will – a human and monster’s thirst for life. There are no knives, no guns - Dean dropping his gun right at the key moment as was per usual - just two men trying to kill the other. It also looks kinda hot and triggering. Or maybe Jared’s just sexually deprived.

Jared jerks when Robert’s voice echoes above him, startling him from his musing and causing the actors to snap out of their roles. “Alright, that’s enough for now. Great work, Jensen. Simon. Take thirty, then we’ll try it again with the dialogs.”

Jensen jumps to his feet immediately, all smiley and fresh like he hasn’t spent the last good forty minutes basically in Purgatory, and offers Simon a hand to pull him up.

“You’re gettin’ way too good, man.” Simon complains sincerely when he regains his bearing again.

Jensen laughs, and _God, he’s gorgeous when he does that_ , and dusts off his pants. Jared chuckles when he notices the two hand-shaped smears of grey trimming the sides of Jensen’s black track pants. “Or maybe you’re just gettin’ way too old.”

It’s a flash, a motion that Jared barely registers, before Jensen’s back down, pinned to the mattress. He lets out a surprised, almost squeak, but in a few seconds he’s laughing again, and wriggling like a worm underneath Simon’s weight, trying to get free.

Simon is on top of him, his knees at each side of Jensen’s hips and his fingers, wrapped tightly around Jensen’s forearms, hold Jensen’s arms safely above his head....

Jared’s vision darkens, from white and yellow from the sun to an angry red, because _what the hell is the guy even thinkin’?! Touching, feeling, Jensen like this?! Practically straddling his lap?_

“I’m still better,” Simon assures Jensen with a triumphant grin, before he stands up, helping Jensen back to his feet.

“Get you down the next time,” Jensen promises as he reaches for the towel dropped across the arm of his director’s chair and wraps it around his neck.

“Then you better eat your lunch.” Simon advises.

Jensen slaps him with the towel, and Jared feels a sudden stab of something unidentifiable he doesn’t like. He watches their interaction and his eyebrows knot with irritation and disapproval.

Simon walks away, no doubt to grab lunch himself, and Jensen spots Jared and steps forward with a smile. He uses the hem of his T-shirt to clean his face, wiping away the perspiration and dust, and ruffling his hair unwillingly even more, and Jared’s breath just about gets stuck in his throat.

The thing is, Jensen’s hips are Jared’s really weak spot. Though he’s not exactly sure why. It might be the narrow waist, or the sharp, protruding hipbones, or just the way his pants hang on them, loosely and barely so, threatening to just give up and fall. Maybe it’s Jensen’s stomach; flat and taut, honey-gold and grazed from the Texas sun. Or maybe it’s even simpler than that. Maybe his weak spot is just Jensen.

They haven’t seen each other for almost a month, which always feels like ages, when they’re used to see each other basically 24/7 for nine months out of the year. There are phones, sure, but they’re a poor surrogate; hearing Jensen laugh definitely isn’t the same as seeing him smile. And there are _other things..._

Now Jared wants real bad to touch, to feel, to re-learn the curves and dips he had got to know before the hiatus. It’s really been too long.

"Are you enjoyin’ yourself?” Jensen asks as he stops in front of Jared, his knees touching the bench where Jared’s feet are propped.

“Huh?”

“No stunts for you today. _Again_. ... I bet you’re devastated.”

“Oh. Uhm... can’t really complain.”

Jensen smirks and nods, probably wondering why he – or more like, Dean - is the only one who’s being constantly life-threatening this time. He points at the bottle behind Jared. “Hand me the water, would you?”

“There you go.”

“Thanks.” If Jared stares at Jensen’s lips when they wrap around the bottle, well, it’s totally not his fault. “You okay?” Jensen wonders when he swallows. “You look kinda scatty.”

“I think... I need to talk to you.”

“You _think_ you need to talk to me?” Jensen’s eyes sparkle with teasing amusement, and Jared stands up swiftly.

“I _do_ need to talk to you.”

“’Kay. Shoot.”

“Not here. My trailer.” He grabs Jensen’s hand, pulling him one direction, then changing his mind, and dragging him the other one. “Or yours. It’s closer.”

Jensen basically waves after him, “Kinda cryptic there, aren’t you?”

 

The second Jensen closes the door behind him, Jared shoves him against it, pinning him to the hard surface with his body; equally as tough and unyielding. Something like a startled, breathy gasp breaks free from Jensen’s throat, but before he can say anything more Jared covers Jensen’s lips with his and nudges his knee in between Jensen’s thighs, rocking against him. Jensen’s head rolls back and thuds against the door as he slowly melts, relaxing in Jared’s hold. When he parts his lips, letting Jared’s tongue in and gathers a handful of Jared’s T-shirt to keep him near, Jared moans, embarrassingly loud.

“Do you have any idea how hard is it to watch you?” He growls when he draws back, just enough to drag in some oxygen. “All hot and sexy and fucking gorgeous and knownin’ that I can’t touch you, while his hands are all over you, where only mine should be?” He bites Jensen’s lower lip, in almost punishment, tugging at the full flesh gently. Then again, harder, when Jensen rolls his hips, teasing.

“Well, I do have a little idea how _hard_ it is.”

“Smartass... The summer was fuckin’ long.” Nipping at his neck, Jared slips his hands underneath Jensen’s T-shirt, pushing the fabric up until Jensen finally gives up and raises his arms. “ _Too_ long... I missed you.”

“You could have just said that,” Jensen comments, watching his favourite T-shirt fly through the air and then end up at the other side of the trailer, knocking down the almost-empty tube of hand cream. “Don’t have to go all cave-man on me.”

“Made you hard though.”

“You steppin’ closer makes me hard.” Jensen shakes his head, disappointed of himself. “I’m really way too easy.”

“I like it.”

“I bet you do.”

Fingers stumbling down to the ties on Jensen’s pants, Jared sighs and rests his forehead against Jensen’s, looking down at him. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” It sounds like something between a curse and a sigh.

“More like awfully sweaty and sticky,” Jensen protests, making a disgusted face. “I should take a shower.”

“You can take it after.”

“Or... I can take it now and you can join me,” Jensen suggests; all smart and serious. “So we can, y’know, spare the water.”

Jared laughs. “Have I already told you how much I dig your ecological thinkin’?”

 

The water cascades from above, splashing against the tiles and slicking up their bodies, dividing them where they’re joined. They move slowly, almost leisurely, with each other and against, like they’re not rushing anywhere. Like the time’s all theirs. Their mouths are touching, but it’s not even a kiss, just slip-sliding of lips and tongue at awkward angle, and breathing in each other’s breath.

Jared’s spread fingers rest on Jensen’s stomach; stubbornly refusing to move where Jensen wants them the most. Jensen’s hand is entwined in the wild mess of Jared’s wet hair, holding him near, the other is plastered to the wall in front of him, keeping him more or less up.

Jensen shudders when he comes, a whole-body jerk that stretches down to the tips of Jared’s fingers, and moans; a noise that is closer to pain than pleasure. His head falls on Jared’s shoulder, his body sinking; boneless and pliant like liquid. Jared keeps moving, two times, three, four, before he curses and his knee buck, making him fall upon Jensen and sending them both to the floor.

“Okay,” Jensen sighs after a moment when he catches his breath finally. “Now they’ll definitely kill me. I’m so fuckin’ tired I can’t even stand up.”

Jared shoves him playfully. “You must be gettin’ old.”

Jensen kicks him. “And you must be askin’ for trouble.”

“Bring it on, ol’ man.”

 

Five minutes later Jensen gathers his limbs off the tiles and stands up, wrapping a towel around his waist. Jared follows, picking up the pieces of his clothing scattered all over the floor, and trying not to get distracted by the miles of bare, damp skin, still glistening with sporadically scattered drops of water again.

“Jensen?” He drops at the desk, with a heavy sigh, and looks up at Jensen, who’s currently browsing through his closet for another T-shirt.

“Hm?”

“This isn’t just fuckin’ ‘round, right? I mean, I... I think I can live with it, if it is...” _‘Cause I sure as hell can’t live without you._ “But I... I like you. Really. A lot... I kinda wish there was more to this.”

Jensen smiles and pulls the T-shirt over his head, smoothing it down. “You mean you like me for more than just my body?” He asks with a cocky grin, batting the stupidly long eyelashes of his.

“No hell, you’re right... I don’t really need the rest,” Jared laughs, immediately relaxing. He cups Jensen’s ass and draws him close again, nudging his nose against Jensen’s.

“There is more,” Jensen says, suddenly serious. “And whatever it is... we’re in it together. I like you, too. Really. A lot... But now we should really, _really_ , get back on the set.”

“ _Noooo_.” Jared protests vehemently, then drops his head, basically his whole body on Jensen’s.

Jensen lets out a breathless _huff_. “Oh yes. C’mon.”

Ten seconds later there’s a knock on the door of Jensen’s trailer, and Jensen gives Jared an 'I told you so' look. Then he finally drags Jared back on the set.


End file.
